#mortar crew

[theworldatwar]

A US mortar crew target German positions across the Rhine - Bacharach, Germany, March 1945

[oscaronthegloryroad]

I saw a meme today and now I really want someone to draw a version of this meme;

but with Ash handing out VZ-61 Scorpions to pokemon.

[blizzardbeaches]

I can’t begin to imagine what this explosion was like for those who live near the base. I’m 18 miles away and literally felt it in my body, as with thunder or a subwoofer. • #scary #jointbasemcguiredixlakehurst #noise #calendar #highnoise #heavy #crew #weapons #training #cratering #munitions #mortar #livefire #howitzer #fire #cratering #charges (at McGuire AFB/Ft. Dix) https://www.instagram.com/p/CoSed7XuFgj/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[otkuhotgirl]

─── 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 .

# with roronoa zoro.

when one labored feelings for another, there were a few ways to proceed. to zoro, coaxing you into an aphrodisiac mist was not the worst of ideas.

⎰ & KINKTOBER, day twelve. smut (mdni!). aphrodisiacs. corruption kink. edging. virginity!loss. afab!reader. no y/n used.

WC: 2.4k.

he could not quite pinpoint the exact moment in which the trees began to mingle, a mortar of wood, frail vines and leaves that gave him no indication of where he was headed whatsoever. deserted, forest-like islands were not as common in the new world as they were on the grand line, so one for sure could expect the appearance of, at least, ancient beasts and odd plants. venture by oneself was far from the wisest decision, yet it hadn’t been one zoro thought much about beforehand. the perv-cook offered — rather insisted — to be your escort, professing love-coated compliments and promising to be your ever-so-diligent knight. zoro turned on his back and strived towards the first direction he faced right thereafter, lacking the self-restraint not to snap then and there.

that had been twelve hours prior.

according to the witch, the log-pose would take three days to settle their next route. without a closer deadline, zoro doubted they would waste time searching for him — not when that land offered fruits and herbs for re-stocking, as well as served as a hunting ground for their captain. he could handle himself well-enough for the time being, a half-burnt rabbit fed him just as much as those fancy meals the cook prepared and his swords could slice an opponent within the second. he grew quite used to a lonesome state of life, yet the crew undid that decade-crafted tendency, and those wandering hours without company had him quite melancholic.

zoro itched for you, and failed to contain the tendon of jealousy that wrapped itself around his heart. where were you; why haven’t you searched for him? perhaps the cook had you far more entertained than anticipated. the thought had him slicing the large trunk of a tree in four pieces, sheathing wado with a harshness uncommon to the usual treatment he spared to his swords. yet again, not his brightest idea, for he, too, seemed to have sliced an odd plant.

zoro’s nostrils were filled with spores, burning his throat and bringing tears to his eyes. he cursed, trembling fingers wrapped around the wild pulse of his wrist. his flesh grew scalding, sweat trailing down the muscles of his back. he half-expected to crumble, to have his throat constrict and cease the path of air to his lungs. poison. it must have been. he would soon be dead, punished for his own recklessness. his thoughts traveled to you, regretting the fact that he had not confessed. yet, his breathing remained — wild, ragged, there still. and the image of you ensued in greater heat, a pit of molten fire that threatened to ignite every organ; consume every particle of air. his cock was throbbing, aching, and zoro clutched own heart in agony, desperation feeding off his every thought.

the weather was tropical. it had forced you to leave the ship wearing nothing but a bikini-top and pants. zoro grunted at the reminder of those breasts, all but partially covered, frail fabric that he could snap with the simplest touch. he lost himself in his thoughts, tearing the waistband of his pants. spores embraced his aching member, and it was as though he had dipped himself into a sea of lava. zoro fisted himself, although the touch neither soothed nor brought comfort. instead, he fell to his knees, chasing a release that did not find him.

“zoro!” you shouted through the mist. “was that you, cutting through the tree?”

the sound of your voice had him shouting, pleasure coursing through his veins. haze of spores clouding his sights had him struggling to catch on the lines of your figure, lingering outside that clouded nightmare. he yearned for you — had been yearning for as long as memories could tell. yet, whenever he dared muse the prospect of confessing, courage failed him, and he was forced to retreat to his usual corner; to watch as the cook swirled around you.

that urge of pleasure brought by the plant, could it be shared? perhaps if zoro lured you into it, you, too, would burn — for it; for him. he was not the brightest tool in the shed, mind more often than not too slow to wrap itself around certain concepts. if zoro was to call you in, submit you to those spores, no one — perhaps the curly, but he did not care whatsoever — would dare blame him. he’d state he hadn’t noticed; hadn’t known; and in the aftermath of what he planned on doing to you inside that fog, if those feelings were not reciprocal, the pair of you would merely pretend. put the blame on the spores. it was a plan of no honor, but lust clouded his better judgment. the desire for your touch, which would present itself as the cure for the self-inflicted disease; the illness he planned on sharing with you.

“zoro?” you tried again, your voice strained.

he called out your name, straight into the lion’s den. his eyes grew more focused at your approach, ears perking up. you started to cough in sheer shock, yet zoro was conscient of the fact that it was but temporary. once your throat grew used to the burning, the spores would settle and you’d be conditioned to want him — perhaps as much as he wanted you.

“i’m here,” he coarsed, hiding his cock from your sight.

zoro beckoned you in, containing the grunt at your approaching figure. you were such a loyal, preoccupied crewmate, ignoring the warning signs for the sake of his protection. tear-pooled eyes met his wide ones as you caught on the state of him — kneeling, trembling. sweat glued the fabric of his shirt to his chest, and he marveled at the realization of your lust. hardened nipples, hands gripping the fabric of your pants. he could see you trembling, struggling to keep yourself together as you drowned in the sight of his sweat-covered figure. your mouth watered; your fingers fidgeted.

“come,” he told you, his voice coated with a sensuality unusual to him. “need your help.”

a faux plea. an encouragement to have you fall into his well-placed trap. when you grew closer, enough to witness the loose state of his pants, he allowed you to have a glimpse of his cock — tip red and leaking; shaft tortured around his bruising grip. he smirked, feeling it twitch as he shifted and offered you the entire view.

zoro called out your name, and you jumped as though a terrified deer caught in the woods. “yes?”

his self control slipped within the second, yet zoro would not dream to push himself past the boundaries of your consent.

“touch,” he rasped out, grunting as his thumb teased his tip.

you leaned forward, as though intoxicated; eyes dazed, chapped lips coated with your saliva. “it’s so big, zoro. i don’t—”

he threw himself at you, pinning you to the ground. his breathing pattern was ragged, and droplets of his saliva fell from his parted lips to your face. the second his hands wrapped around your wrists, zoro was moaning at the contact, the shared heat enough to cover his vision with black spots.

“shit,” he cursed, rutting his hips forward. you mewled, biting your lip, seeming embarrassed at the sound.

“zoro,” you moaned, squirming under his touch. “i won’t know what to do.”

he stopped, observing you as though you were a free-course meal. zoro licked his lips, daring to drag his nose into your chest, drunk in your scent. he wrapped his teeth around the strap of your bikini, glancing at you through his eyelashes, refusing to relieve the pressure around your wrists. “how so?”

your frustration surfaced; your hips rolling against his own. zoro’s pre-cum stained the fabric of your pants, and you bit down your lower lip, avoiding his gaze. “i’ve never had sex,” you admitted, pressing your cheek against the grass. “it won’t help you.”

his brain short-circuited. zoro trembled, threatening to come undone. the act of luring him to that haze of spores gave him the claim to your innocence, for he would be the one to maculate that inch of your body. he teased the waistband of your pants, drooling at the realization that you had no idea on how to behave whatsoever. the movement of your hips was erratic, inexperienced. your nails scratched against the back of his hands. your legs trembled; fought a losing battle against the weight of his own.

“you’re a virgin,” zoro breathed out in ecstasy, dragging his tongue down your stomach, never once daring to break eye-contact.

“i’m sorry,” you cried, voice broken due to both lust and despair. “i just want this to feel good to you. please, zoro, touch.”

he clicked his tongue, using both hands to lift your bikini top. the plant spores teased your nipples, and the broken sound that escaped past your tortured lips had him twitching. zoro’s tongue swirled around a pert bub, fingers pinching the other one as he used his other hand to force your pants down. he had no time for foreplay whatsoever, much too desperate due to the effects of the plant.

“it will be,” he promised, excited to ruin you.

his eyes glued at the pale-rose, lacy underwear of your panties. when he teased the strap, snapping it against your hip, you moaned. zoro’s own voice betrayed his desire when he tore the fabric and opened your folds with his fingers, exposing your cunt to the effects of the aphrodisiac. you were soaked wet; clit swollen; hole clenching around nothing. your essence dripped down on the grass; coated his nails. zoro refused to believe that had been all from the effect of the spores. you were so sensitive; so easy to arouse. he smirked, reveling in the sight of your disheveled state, forced into the aphrodisiac fog.

“can’t handle it,” he grunted, teasing your entrance with his tip. you teared up with a whimper, and zoro hissed as his cock stretched you out, walls swallowing him whole. “need to move.”

“please,” you begged, squirming. the burning sensation at the pit of his stomach all but exploded, and zoro started to pounce into you, thrusts fast-paced and rough. he slid with abnormal easiness, his tip numb due to the spores.

you struggled under his weight, and zoro snapped his hips as a response, gripping both your wrists with a single hand. his index reached your clit, rough digit drawing hectic, desperate circles. zoro constricted your movements and latched his lips around your breast, ignoring your sounds. he failed to see past the haze of pleasure, ignoring your sounds and squirming. you were but a ragdoll at his mercy, victimized by the restless pace of his thrusts.

“zoro!” you shouted, coughing thereafter for you had inhaled a considerable amount of spores in the process.

he bottomed out without warning, biting your nipple harshly. you followed-in-suit, yet he continued, the orgasm useless to satisfy his hunger. your cum mingled with his own, soaking his still-hardened cock as he persisted, ruthless and rough, his wrist growing numb due to the prolonged movement required to tease your clit. he felt you struggle, back arching and head moving to the sides. the instance thereafter, your hips moved in a failed attempt to match the pace of his thrusts — his chaste, inexperienced crewmate sheepishly baring fangs after the first orgasm.

zoro retreated his head off your breast with a pop, brushing his nose against your chin before biting on your lower lip. the aphrodisiac cloud began to lose its density, and he breathed it in; mouth slack as if to collect most of it before its disappearance.

“open it,” he demanded, collecting saliva during the process needed for your consent. the second the external world cleared, zoro spat on your mouth, forcing you to swallow the remaining spores that lingered on his tongue.

he pumped the previous round of his load inside before busting yet another one unannounced, glaring to where your bodies connected, enamored with the sight of his white-stained tip shoving itself in-and-out. zoro removed his finger from your clit, shoving it inside your mouth.

“cum,” he demanded, fucking his essence deeper, sensitive tip prodding at your walls.

without the aphrodisiacs numbing his flesh, zoro doubted he’d last longer — yet he refused to leave you hanging. your tongue stilled around his finger; a reminder that you had much to learn still. he teased your g-spot, his digit muffling the moan of your high, and zoro bit back a broken whimper when your essence drowned his tip.

zoro lowered his head to regain his breathing, attempting to swallow down the embarrassment at what he had done. the absence of spores, too, had him aware of your compromising position, and he released the grip on your wrists with a clear of his throat, fixing the top of your bikini.

“zoro?” you whispered, placing your hand above his own. “did it feel good?”

he dared face you, reading the lines of both bliss and hesitation in your expression. zoro smiled ever-so-slightly, unable to contain his adoration. “felt amazing.”

you cleared your throat, averting your glance as your fingers toyed with his. zoro was still sheathed inside, fearing the moment he’d need to retreat. he was lost in thought, struggling to find the proper words to convey his feelings. would you fancy an “i love you”? would it be too soon?

“can we do that more often?” you broke the silence, staring at him. “with a kiss next time?”

has he not kissed you yet? zoro softly guided your chin, pressing his lips against yours with a soft, victorious sigh. “can do it as many times as you want.”

you smiled, whimpering the second he removed his soft cock. perhaps a bit of recklessness could sometimes be rewarded.

— 🐈‍⬛ : a bit late today but time is a concept i’m sure it’s the twelfth day somewhere still!

[eureka-its-zico]

Chaos in Their Bones

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: All your life you’d listened to your friend, Usopp spin wild tales about pirates and adventure. Pirates weren’t a thing that came often to Syrup Village, but one straw hat pirate and his crew changed all that the day they arrived. Now, you aren’t so sure if your sleepy little village was always pirate-free or if no one had been paying attention. 

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, frienemies to lovers, slow burn (I hope y’all like aching) eventual smut

Words: 5k+

A/N: I told myself I wasn’t going to do this, so naturally I did it anyway. This is the first chapter in a planned series with a reader insert following the events of the OPLA universe. I sincerely hope that this is a story you all love as this is my first initial time writing for one of my beloved anime. But let’s be real, after seeing Mackenyu play Zoro (my fav) I knew I was going to be whipped from the start. The reader will go by “Doc” in this story at times, and later a nickname by Zoro himself.  As always, I hope you enjoy this. Much love, Jenn. Also, thank you @thegreatesttttttttt for indulging me.

Next

The ringing of the bell thundered through the sky above. An upcoming warning of four words that would echo through the street's moments later. 

“The pirates are coming!”

You could practically hear the rest of the town groan with a sigh. Their annoyance stunk up the streets as Usopp sounded the imaginary alarm as he usually did every day around this time. Maybe it was because you considered Usopp a friend that his tall tales and wild imagination didn’t bother you. 

Instead, a sly smile tilted your lips as you continued to grind the seeds deep into the mortar. Mr. Edison’s gruff voice from outside your window reminded Usopp for the millionth time that he needed to stop as he sprinted past. 

“What is that boy going on about?” Naan huffed.

You sent a quick glance behind your shoulder at the older woman who was currently folding the recently washed linens. All of them are used with a purpose to either staunch bloody wounds or for the simple purpose of relieving colds. Naan’s linens, like her home, were used for a multitude of healing services, with the only payment she accepted was that of the kindness of others around her. 

“You already know, Naan,” you replied, your smile evident in your words. “It’s the usual afternoon reminder to stay on your toes.”

A deep chuckle came from behind you followed by the soft cough that came after. 

“These toes can’t do very much standing. So, maybe tell your friend to give me a day of rest soon.”

“Usopp has done this every day for seven years. I don’t think anything anyone will ever say will make him stop.”

Even if you could get Usopp to stop, you wouldn’t be the one to make him. You weren’t sure how many people in town knew who his father was - or that he’d been a pirate. A father by suggestion, Usopp’s wild imagination could only recall small things from the stories his mother had been willing to share, and from those stories, even greater ones grew.

While everyone else may have found Usopp’s stories as an ever-present headache you knew they held a deeper meaning. They were the only thing he knew of a man he never got to know. 

The sound of chair legs creaking across the floor cut you out of your thoughts. Just in time from the looks of the seed putty you’d created. A heavy thud on the boards informed you Naan grabbed her cane and the heavier shuffling of her feet that she was heading in your direction. 

“What are you so intently making over here, child?”

Settling down the pestle, you reached over your workstation to grab a pot. You were going to need to fetch some water to bring everything to a bowl before you strained it into a jar. 

“Water. I need to go get some water,” you murmured as you brought the pot down in front of you.

“Am I talking to myself?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Naan. Did you say something?”

This time you did dare to look at her. Her deep-set wrinkles set impossibly deeper as she regarded your work from over your shoulder. 

“Oh, I only asked what you were making that was stinking up my kitchen.”

Your eyes flew open wide as you took a deep breath in. You were sure the only thing you’d put in that maybe - maybe - smelled was the slippery elm, but you hadn’t even steeped it in the water yet. Naan must have read your panic before it began to stitch your brow together. Your eyes still helplessly peeled to the job in front of you instead of the chuckling woman behind you. 

“It’s fine, child. I’m just teasing you.”

All your panic rushed out in a huff of air as your body finally turned to greet her. Your eyes instantly took in the very tired look of hers. 

“You should get some rest, Naan.”

The two of you knew you meant well. You would never try and make Naan feel older than she already felt, except you didn’t give a damn about her feelings when you could easily spot the sweat on her upper lip. The way her body leaned more into the cane that supported her. She batted your concern away with a swat of her free hand. As if it would be enough to make whatever fear that gripped at your heart magically disappear.  

“Don’t patronize me. I’m fine.”

“You are not fine. You're wheezing with every breath now-“

“I said I’m fine. Leave me alone and start worrying about whatever it is you’re making.”

“Well,  if you would stop interrupting me, maybe I could finish it!”

The irritation in your voice wasn’t hard to miss. Naan heard it too no doubt with the way her brow cocked as if begging you to repeat it. 

The silence stretched uncomfortably between you. Naan wouldn’t even look at you - probably too scared to see your eyes pleading, full of worry for her to just go lay down. 

Why must you always be so stubborn? 

The question sat on your tongue and made your words form like molasses. You weren’t a child anymore. So, it begged the question of why you were still afraid to speak to her like an adult. It didn’t matter if what you said hurt her old feelings. Not when the thought of her not being around made your chest begin to spread wide like an aching chasm. 

“You never did say what you were making.”

You pressed your tongue against your cheek while you debated if it would be worth it to try and argue with her. Of course, you were always the first one to relent and push it under the metaphorical rug.

“It’s a gift for Miss Kaya. Usopp told me her cough hadn’t changed and asked if I would make something for her.”

“Hmm,” Naan hummed in thought. “That boy is strange, but he is kind.”

“Not as strange as Kaya having an unknown illness the last few years and never seeking any aid from the town's doctor,” you grumbled. 

Naan’s hand lightly clasped your shoulder in comfort - comfort you didn’t want to accept. Not only were thoughts of Naan being sick plaguing every ounce of free space in your brain but now so was Kaya. You’d only met her once when you were younger with Usopp and after her parents died that odd butler, Klahadore, kept her under strict observation. 

In all the years you’d been with Naan, learning everything she could teach about healing, you’d found it odd that the staff never came to ask for help. You couldn’t recall a time when Sham or Buchi ever came down requesting any tonics or medicines from Naan, or for her to come with them to examine Kaya in the first place. 

I wasn’t aware they were waitstaff and doctors. 

You knew these thoughts would only dampen your mood until it turned completely sour. You just couldn’t stop the runaway train that was your thoughts from slipping back into questioning everything with the universe never giving you any new answers. 

“How many times have I told you, child, we can’t make people get help. They have to seek it themselves and that- that is when the real healing begins.”

You were already bitter and that bitterness responded to Naan’s words in the form of an eye roll. One you were lucky the older woman didn’t see. 

“It’s just not right.” 

“Right or not, it’s not our place to go butting in.”

She stood behind you for a few more minutes waiting for a reply you didn’t give. You were done talking. Done trying to get her to understand that she was sick too and that all those years of molding words and actions to help others were what drove you to help her. To help Kaya. Only Usopp seemed to notice that something in her grand home wasn’t right. 

Frustration drew tight across your chest causing your hands to seek support against the counter. For a split second, you imagined yourself splitting open and becoming two separate people. One being the doctor Naan trained you to be and the other something less controlled. Someone who was tired of listening but never being heard. 

You listened as Naan began to retreat back to her table where the rest of the linens waited to be folded. You listened as another terrible cough violently shook itself free from her lungs as you focused on your work. 

If you couldn’t help Naan you were just going to settle for helping Miss Kaya. Once you finished making Usopp’s requested medicine you were going to be sure he delivered it to her. 

It was time a doctor paid a visit. 

————

The shipyard. 

Of course, Usopp was going to be here. Why you hadn't thought to come here first felt like a mystery all on its own. 

In all the years you’d known him, Usopp’s routine hardly ever changed. He usually performed his usual pirate ritual just before he started his day in the shipyard. He was hired to care for and clean all of the ships housed within, however, and upon no real surprise to you, Usopp cleaned and polished the Going Merry daily. 

So, it didn’t surprise you to find him already on the ship. What did surprise you were the three people standing with him steps away from the Going Merry, herself. 

You didn’t feel alarmed in any way. Usopp was good with people - he enjoyed talking to anyone willing to listen. The man with the straw hat, who was grinning wildly in the direction of Usopp and then to his friends, seemed happy to listen. He was giving Usopp his full attention and whatever your friend was saying was exactly what Straw Hat wanted to hear. 

The other two people beside him, however, didn’t seem to share in the excitement. Sure, the pretty woman with the orange hair was giving all the perfect signaling queues of a smile and nod to make it believable that she was interested in anything Usopp had to say. Did she probably care about whatever was being said? Probably not, but at least she didn’t look as sour as the moss-hair-colored guy- 

Holy shit

Your feet stopped working. Your knees seemed to refuse to bend, to make any movement forward for the last few feet to close the distance to the group. For what reason? There had to be a perfectly good reason- 

Nope. Thoughts gone. Head empty. 

That was the best way to describe what was currently happening as your eyes stayed glued to the three-sword-wielding swordsman standing next to the woman. 

Three swords? You wondered. Where does the other one go?

Maybe you would ask him if you ever summed up the courage to do just that. If you could just get your legs to function again. 

In all the time you’d lived on Shell Island you were more than positive you’d never seen someone that looked close to him. Especially someone carrying around three swords or standing with so much purpose. Even as your eyes took him in you could tell he was pretending to be relaxed, but after years of mending bodies, you noticed the tightness between his shoulder blades. The ease he tried to display with a hand resting on the hilt of the sword wasn’t actually resting. Even relaxed, this man was ready to unsheathe those blades and use them at a moment's notice. 

While the idea made you consider him a great swordsman, your heart also ached at the thought of feeling trapped and weary of others' intentions. 

Your thoughts would’ve continued to run wild as you embarrassingly gawked at this stranger and his friends. All of that was ruined, however, when Usopp caught a glimpse of you between orange and green hair. 

“Doc!”

Usopp’s excitement translated to a crazy arm wave and immediately caused all three of his newfound friends to face you. God, this meant you had to get your legs working. You had to physically move closer. You could do that. No problem. 

Taking in a deep breath, you allowed a genuine smile to raise your lips in welcome. Luckily, your feet didn’t betray you as you moved the last few feet. You made a mental note as you got closer that the straw hat was meeting your smile with his own, while the other two regarded you with lackluster enthusiasm. 

Great. They were the grumpy types of people. 

“There you are Usopp,” you began cheerfully. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” 

“You know, Usopp?” Asked straw hat. 

You felt your brow crease in question as your smile wilted at the corners. 

“I would hope so. We’ve known each other since we’ve lived here.”

“Impressive,” mumbled the woman. 

Okay, maybe she wasn’t as friendly as you originally thought, but she was still definitely friendlier than moss hair. Who currently felt like he was drilling holes into your chest. 

“Ugh, Doc I was just going to take these guys to visit, Kaya,” Usopp interjected. 

He was still smiling - always smiling. His eyes darted to the three new faces before landing back at you. 

“Why would you take them to see, Kaya?”

“She owns the shipyard and we-“Straw hat interjected, “Are in need of a ship. That beautiful ship behind us, to be exact.” 

You glanced behind him to the Going Merry. Kaya’s family ship. 

You shot Usopp a questioning glance that you weren’t surprised to see him ignore. He was up to something there was no doubting that. The issue was you weren’t sure what angle he was trying to play. 

“Good luck with that.” 

You did mean it. You didn’t think he was going to get it no matter how good-natured he seemed. That was still a family memory you weren’t sure Kaya would be willing to part with. 

“Thanks!”

“Doc, before I take them over there do you by chance have what I asked for?”

You patted your satchel for good measure before you replied, “That’s why I was looking for you. I have it right here.” 

Usopp took a step towards you, his hand outstretched in waiting for you to deposit the bottle. When you didn’t comply with his request he shot you a look of worry. 

“You do have it right?”

“Yes, Usopp I told you I did. I just want to come with you to check on her myself.”

A look of worry dimmed the mirth in his eyes for one second. If you didn’t know what to look for you would have missed it entirely. You knew he’d been asking you for months to sneak in with him to visit Kaya. His own suspicions began to outweigh the doubt that plagued his heart with every heavy decision that needed to be made. 

Deep down, Usopp knew if you were finally going to answer his request of sneaking in with him, it must be serious. A concept Usopp himself purposely tried to run from often. 

“Wait, you’re a doctor? That is so cool!” 

You needed to learn Straw Hat’s name because he was growing on you fast. 

“I’m no-“

“She’s actually one of the best doctors in the whole East Blue,” Usopp beamed. “She’s cured this small village of at least two possible plague outbreaks twice already.” 

You were willing to bet your eyes were the size of saucers. There was no way any of them would believe that kind of nonsense. There was absolutely no way- 

“Wow, now that is really impressive! Sounds just like somebody who should be a part of my crew-“

“No!”

“We are not a crew!”

The absolute verbal whiplash you just experienced left your head reeling to pick up on every conversation. Straw Hat was practically turning into pure sunshine in front of you, while the other two were glaring like you’d sprouted three heads. 

Geez, what a tough crowd. 

“Ok, wait what?”

“It’s nothing he doesn’t mean anything by it,” the woman replied, a tight smile thinning out her lips. 

“We don’t need someone pretending to play medicine woman to join us.” 

Your eyes narrowed in on the now green-haired monster. He met your cold glance with his own. Whoever - whatever - he experienced in his life meant he didn’t find you the least bit threatening. He regarded you like an annoyance and you found yourself wondering why the universe made all the grumpy ones the most attractive. 

If his lips pouted any harder he was going to have to rent a kissing booth. 

“For your information, I’m not a pretend doctor.”

Whatever he was going to reply with was cut off by Straw hat who quickly pointed at himself. “I’m Luffy, and these are my companions Nami and Zoro.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Luffy,” you beamed letting them know your name in response. “But most people just refer to me as Doc because of Usopp.” 

Nami clapped her hands together to bring you both back to the matter at hand. Kaya’s medicine. Their boat. 

“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, can we get going? We really should stop by and pay her a visit.” 

“Oh yeah! Come on guys, I can show you the fastest way there.” 

Usopp tossed down his rag and skipped backward to the crate where his own satchel sat. 

“Great! If you guys will kindly follow me this way I can show you something really awesome.” 

You wanted to smack some sense into him. Usopp always wanted to be liked - for people to spend time with him and enjoy it. Besides Kaya and you who humored him with his opulent imagination and ability to spin fables like cotton candy. These people, Luffy excluded, did not deserve his endearing desire for friendship. They were both giving off major chip on their shoulder vibes and you vowed to become an even bigger pain in the ass if they were unnecessarily rude to him. 

They didn’t wait to know if you were joining them or even behind them. They all moved forward to follow Usopp, who was spit-firing a conversation at Luffy who easily seemed to match it with his own charisma. Nami and Zoro trudged behind them both and you brought up the rear. 

You’d hoped at some point Luffy or Usopp would drag you into the conversation. Anything that would keep your wandering eyes from constantly burrowing holes between Zoro’s sculpted shoulders. If you didn’t locate some form of self-control soon, you were positive your brain would be sent spinning into a tangent about how martial arts training with weapons was a godsend. So, looking at your feet for the next few miles would have to suffice. 

It was strange how the world between poverty and the rich was such an overwhelming force. The farther you ventured out past the town and into the privacy of the landscape that kept Kaya’s family home hidden, it was a wonder that anyone would know it was there. 

There were endless strawberry fields that farmers planted on one side and potatoes on the other. Dozens of workers tended to their growth with their hard work and sweat until a wall of bamboo cut off any view. All you could see was an endless path swallowed in bamboo branches making the path more foreboding than you thought necessary. 

When you finally came in through the front gates, their iron and mortar was a welcomed sight. The one thing that wasn’t was that stupid Well you’d grown to hate ever since you almost fell in looking over the side as a child. 

“I’ve never seen a house this big before.” 

Luffy’s admission sent your eyes up from your feet to the large garden entrance. And that damned well that sat like a mockery in the middle of the walkway to the front. 

“It’s impressive, right? Kaya’s given me an open invitation to stop by anytime I want.” 

Your eyes darted over to Usopp who was practically skipping with excitement as he and Luffy made their way over to the well. You wanted him to look at you, but you knew he wouldn’t. If he did, Usopp would only find you looking at him - full of questions - with a look calling him a liar. You would never want him to feel bad. It was never your intention, however, it was going to be more embarrassing if you all got caught and thrown out on your ass than just being honest. 

“Wow. That’s pretty awesome,” Luffy breathed. His face was full of wonder as he continued to take in the large space. “All of this is just for one person?”

“Well…she lives here with a few other staff.”

“Yeah. A bunch of asshole staff,” you grumbled under your breath.

By the way, Luffy and Usopp were hanging over the side of the well - ick - neither of them had heard you. Unfortunately, your fellow rear buddies did. 

“You don’t seem to be a fan of the staff?” Nami ventured. 

You eyed her carefully. She came off friendly enough, but she wasn’t giving anything else away. The small smile on her lips wasn’t reaching her eyes. Instead, they were calculating and waiting for you to give her any information you were willing or unwilling to give. 

Nami was incredibly smart and equally dangerous because of it. 

“They do a lot of suspicious things,” you replied slowly, unsure of how much sharing was too much. 

“I’m sure butlers don’t come harboring life-threatening secrets,” Zoro countered.

His hand shoved in a pocket while the other still rested on the sword. He regarded you the way adults do children making up fairytales. The way the townspeople looked at Usopp like a silly child always crying wolf. They both thought you were being silly, and you wish you could say their disregard didn’t make your chest cave in just a bit, but you never were a good liar. 

“No, maybe butlers don’t,” you countered, “but people do.”

When neither of them showed signs of continuing on with the conversation you started forward following Usopp and Luffy. You didn’t care about whatever conversation Zoro or Nami were having behind you. They could’ve been discussing robbing the place blind for all you could care about. 

You were worried more about the people than the objects inside. 

“If you have an invitation, why are we going through the back way?”

Just tell them, Usopp. 

“Oh, well I never go through the front entrance. This is more of a VIP entrance.”

“This guy is full of shit.”

“Yeah, but if he gets us inside who cares.” 

Why was Luffy the only member of this merry band of misfits who weren’t incredibly grumpy? 

“Usopp,” you called out to him in a warning. 

He gave you a glance over his shoulder before he made his way over the giant lily pads without a reply. 

Little shit, you thought as you realized he was very much choosing to ignore your existence. Did you blame him? Not really. You couldn’t remember the last time anyone had humored him this long and you were debating on if you should be the one to crush his newfound hopes and dreams. 

Fortunately for you, you weren’t going to have to be the bad guy in that scenario. One already seemed to exist. 

Just as Usopp reached the second lily pad, you knew something was wrong. The hiccup of an, “Oh,” that came out of him registering as panic. He was already turning back to stop Luffy from coming closer, almost begging him to go to another entrance - an extra special one - when he was interrupted by a knife plunging into the lily pad between his feet. 

A very sharp knife. One you knew could’ve easily severed flesh or nicked an artery. Your blood boiled as you pushed past Luffy, your eyes darting wildly as Buchi stalked towards Usopp who stuttered past a greeting. 

“What the hell are you doing here, Usopp?” He snapped as his hands lurched in to grasp the leather of Usopp’s top. “You know you aren’t welcome here.” 

“I know nothing of the sort. I came to give Kaya an extra-special gift.”

You practically glided past the last lily pad when a sharp hiss cut the air. You didn’t necessarily need to look to see if it was Sham. You knew it was. She stood just off the first step from where they’d been disemboweling the hog, mop at the ready, and her teeth bared directly at you.

“He’s brought the doctor,” she hissed. 

Buchi finally seemed to register your presence from behind Usopp and bared his own teeth in warning. 

“You are definitely not welcome here.”

“A rather odd thing to say to a healer when your mistress seems to be suffering a mysterious illness.”

“An illness we are more than capable of handling.”

“I find that highly doubtful.”

With his hands still holding onto Usopp, Buchi leaned forward to growl - literally growl - in your face like a rabid dog. You wanted to poke him in the eye and were incredibly tempted to do so when a soft voice cut through the tension. 

“Usopp! What a wonderful surprise!”

Everyone’s attention shifted as Kaya made her entrance on the arm of Klahadore. You took a step back and away from the two just so Usopp could twist himself free and walk towards the waiting mistress of the estate. 

“I wouldn’t miss today of all days. Happy birthday, Kaya.”

“You remembered.”

My god, she was practically swooning and Usopp was eating it up. 

“I could never forget.” 

This feels awkward. 

They acted like they didn’t have a captive audience watching them look at each other like two lovestruck teenagers. 

It wasn’t hard to notice how Kaya beamed at him or how that attention brought happiness to Usopp. For as long as you can remember, even as children, Usopp always liked her. Sure, he would play it off as if they were just friends. There was no way she could see him that way, but when Kaya’s parents passed away three years ago what was between them seemed to change. Their feelings became something saturated in an understanding of loss. Usopp knew what Kaya needed because it was something he himself had never truly received. 

So, did it bother you that she actually hadn’t greeted you yet? Not really. What did bother you, however, was the way Klahadore’s eyes slithered over to you. It made you feel like you were going to be sick.

“Usopp. Did you bring the doctor with you?”

Please, let me crawl into a hole and die. 

There was something off about Klahadore. It wasn’t just because he made your skin want to completely crawl off your body. It was the way he sounded every alarm bell in your brain. The way your heart speeds up triggering the fight or flight response that was ingrained in your body's defense system. The way he continued to look at you as if you were a bug that needed to be squashed, only drove the feeling home. 

“Oh, yeah. Kaya, I had Doc make you something for your cough. I figured it might be worth a try.” 

God, he looked so happy. He was completely oblivious to how Klahadore seemed ready to smite you both where you stood. 

You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath. Maybe when you opened them he wouldn’t be staring daggers into your face. 

Nope. No such luck. 

“Oh, that is so incredibly sweet,” Kaya beamed. 

Klahadore slowly set his hand out in front of him. The cold obsidian of his eyes never left your face as he spoke. “Please hand over whatever tonic you’ve acquired for Miss Kaya.”

You weren’t aware your hand was already in the satchel. Your fingers wrapped protectively tight against the cool glass of the bottle as you continued to stare at one another. 

“Hand it over. Please.”

“No-“

Usopp’s hand on your shoulder stopped you cold. Your teeth ground tightly to stop your next words. You didn’t want to hand that asshole anything. Not when Kaya looked so damn pale. 

Something is wrong. 

The thought wormed its way into your brain until it gnawed at all other thoughts until it consumed every available spot. It was all you could think as your eyes continued to look over her frail frame. 

Naan taught you that as a doctor, and as a healer, it was your job to fight for your patients. To always do what you could and what was best for their care. Was giving the medicine you made for Kaya to Klahadore best for her care. 

No. No, it sure as shit didn’t feel like it. 

Maybe that was why it felt like such a betrayal to take the medicine from your bag and drop it inside his gloved hand. You watched as his disgusting white fingers wrapped around the gray bottle and brought it up to rest closely to his chest. 

“Now, Usopp we’ve had this discussion about coming here unannounced - and this time with a doctor.”

“Nonsense, Klahadore,” Kaya interjected. “They are my friends. What a sweet gesture it was, Doc to try and make me something. Usopp, did you come to tell me more stories about your adventures?”

“I can do you one better. I brought some of my crew.”

With a sweep of his arm, Usopp introduced Luffy, Nami, and Zoro who registered this gesture with sheer disbelief. Well, disbelief would be putting it mildly. 

“Is he talking about us?” 

Luffy sounded as confused as you felt. 

“I’m sorry, but we do not have any room for any extra guests tonight, I’m afraid.” 

“Oh please, Klahadore couldn’t they at least stay for dinner? It is my birthday.”

You hated how Kaya had to beg to have company that wasn’t her staff. You could vaguely remember the butler who was in charge before Klahadore had arrived. Mr. Thorburr had been an absolute delight and genuinely seemed to care about Kaya and her family’s wellbeing. If he was still in charge, you were positive he would’ve believed in letting Kaya outside to enjoy the garden or have friends stop by, even unannounced, to visit. 

One day he was just gone and slowly the only staff that was left were these three assholes. It all felt awfully convenient or maybe you were just being petty because you disliked them.

The way Klahadore looked at her made your stomach turn. 

“Anything for you, Miss Kaya.”

You wondered if he choked a little over each word as they traveled up his throat.

“Great!” Luffy shouted. “When do we eat?”

“You don’t. Not dressed like that. You will change and bathe before dinner. No exceptions.”

Everyone was willing to accept the invitation. The premise of a bath seemed enough to make Nami practically skip forward to be led inside by Sham. Your feet, however, refused to move. Usopp, Luffy, and Nami practically took the small stairs up to the patio in one giant leap. Your earlier dread from the day was back and something dark borrowed its way into your chest. 

Something is wrong. 

You were about to turn tail and run when you noticed Zoro stop at the edge of the stairs. His body turned slightly to eye Klahadore one last time before he turned to follow after his crew. It was small and barely lasted a second, but it was enough. 

Zoro noticed something wasn’t right either and maybe, just maybe, he’d be the one to believe you. All you had to do was join him inside the house to talk to him. No biggie. 

Taking in a deep breath you finally moved to follow behind Kaya and Klahadore. Your eyes intently following a particular green-haired swordsman and wondering how you were going to get him alone. 

The showers seemed like a great place to start.

_______________________

As always, thank you for reading. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

[sixpenceee]

Sony’s iconic 2006 “Color Like No Other” campaign included the $2M ad, “Paint.” Shot in a disused Glasgow housing complex, it required 70,000L of paint, 1,700 detonators, 455 mortars, 622 bottle bombs, 65 cameras & 200 crew, including 60 people to clean up paint for 5 days | source

[brotherconstant]

BLACK SAILS 10th Anniversary Celebration Day Two: Favorite Dynamic: Max/Eleanor

II. • And then what? Then they blockade the island, choke off trade. A few crews will resist, but how long can they survive without my father's support? One by one their numbers will dwindle. The fort will be abandoned. Soldiers will storm the beach. By the time the smoke clears, my father will have arrived. First time he's set foot here in five years waving the royal commission that his bribes purchased and lording over the place. Round of applause, the new governor. Somewhere in London, some foul fuck will get news of all of this, light his pipe and say, "Finally, all is right again in Nassau." XIX. • You saying this ain't real? Of course it is. The fort will be repaired. If he says it, he'll do it. When you first opened that door and showed me the Urca gold, do you know what I saw? A solution. The mortar that would secure the sand beneath our feet. The thing I could offer to England or Spain or whomever arrived here and threatened to reorder things, and say, "Take this and leave me be." Everything is dependent upon that gold, and right now it is sitting in a fort with no guns and full of holes.

[livelaughloveluffy]

plus size reader who’s a herbalist and has some nurse training on the ship and helps make medicines so she acts as choppers assistant . zoro having a thing for her an getting tended by her for care after a battle while chopper patches up the others

tending wounds - roronoa zoro

a/n: thank you so much for your request!! this was actually the perfect prompt to begin my new series!! so more fics like this will be coming soon!! (gotta take advantage of my small thanksgiving break the best i can 😭😭)

a/n: also it only made sense for me to write you all a little thanksgiving treat because i am very thankful for all the love and support i have gotten on my writing!!! 💗

nothing but fluff here 💗

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it had only been a couple of months since you first joined the straw hat crew, and you were still getting into the groove and adjusting to the other members. it was a little intimidating joining a group of such closely bonded people, and often times you had a hard time believing that you belonged and had a place in the crew. the only thing that you were sure of was your skill as an herbalist. always knowing the perfect blends, gardening techniques to grow quicker and fuller plants, and many other skills. it only made sense for you to become chopper's right hand and partner in crime in the doctor's office.

•♡•

zoro couldn't help but be drawn to you from the second you stepped aboard the ship. typically, he didn't have much interest in women, but you were different. your soft curves, gentle demeanor, and bright smile just seemed to scream for his attention.

his eyes followed you around the deck as you collected herbs from the shared garden on the sunny, preparing to help chopper prep some medicine for the upcoming battle. he couldn't help the faint blush that flooded to his cheeks as he noticed your small smile of content while tending to the plants in your section of the garden, the weights he was lifting completely forgotten about as he stood there utterly struck by your presence.

•♡•

while you did know that the if the straw hats are anything, they are extremely driven and put 110% of themselves into everything they do, the very first time they came back from a battle, you were slightly floored to see the true gravity of their injuries.

now, more than ever, did you put your all into your work. sitting with your pestle and mortar, diligently and quickly grinding away the soothing herbal concoction. you didn't notice how the hours had slipped by, nor the setting sun, as you sat hunched over your work table.

it wasn't until you were startled away from your work with chopper's surprised voice "you're still in here? you got so much done! we'll have more than enough medicine! go and take a break! i can handle the crew for now!"

•♡•

following the doctor's orders, you left the office in attempt to take a break from work. but when walking past the bathroom, you couldn't help but notice the door slightly ajar, and a green-haired swordsman standing in front of the mirror, fidgeting with his freshly applied bandages. you gently wrap your knuckles against the door, pushing it open more as his head turned to meet your eyes.

the swordsman suddenly found himself staring into eyes he'd recognize anywhere, comforted by the sound of your soft gentle voice as you asked "need some help? you look uncomfortable.."

•♡•

zoro had pulled you into the bathroom, grabbing the handle and closing the door behind you, faster than your brain could process. he couldn't help but close the distance between the two of you, blocking you between him and the door as your round cheeks grew to a bright and beautiful shade of pink. his low husky voice whispers into your ear "yeah, they're a bit tight. my wounds are still pretty sore too. might be bleeding through already.."

it took all your self control to focus on the man in front of you, his sharp gaze, attention solely on you, made you understandably flustered. your hand just barely hovering over his bandaged chest, gesturing for him to back up "let me take a look. can you sit up on the counter for me? there should be a first aid kit i stashed in here."

quickly busying yourself, grabbing the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet, and examining its contents with slightly shaking hands. you willed yourself to look up at zoro again, something about the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. forcing yourself to remain immersed in tending his wounds, you did the only thing you knew to do to keep your mind preoccupied, talk through the medical process.

zoro, absorbed in the process of watching you work and seeing you in your element, patiently waited for you to get situated before hopping up onto the bathroom counter. he sat with his legs spread, giving you room to stand between them so you could be close enough to him to work with ease.

your sweet delicate voice sounded like music to the swordsman, even as you informed him you were going to remove his bandages. your soft hands, light and gentle, as they softly pried up his old bandages and slowly peeled them away from his gashes. he could feel your intent to not cause him pain in this process. the way your breath slowed, your body unintentionally leaning closer to him to inspect your hands as they worked, the floral fragrance of the herbs you worked with soaked into your skin and how only he could smell it in this closeness.

your voice cut through his haze of infatuation as you said "okay, since you still have quite a bit of fresh and dried blood, i'm going to have to clean it first before i apply the ointment. i'm sorry, this is going to sting a little bit." your hand now holding a lightly soapy damp cloth, you deftly run it over the open wound, careful to clean every inch of it. however, you immediately paused at the soft sound of a muffled groan from the swordsman, wide eyes looking up to meet his. it didn't go unnoticed by you how much zoro was trying to restraint his discomfort from you. "i know, i'm sorry zo'. if you want, you could squeeze my other hand.."

the words had barely left your mouth before his fingers were intertwined with yours. you took one last glance at the swordsman before returning to cleaning his wound. a soft squeeze could be felt from time to time, at the particularly deep parts of his wound. but as you worked, you could feel zoro's thumb slowly stroking your index finger.

"okay, now it's time to apply the ointment. we're almost done!" you could feel the man's eyes on you as you getting swiped your finger against the jar of ointment, gathering the material on your finger, ready to apply it to his wounds. your finger slowly and precisely traced over the jagged cuts of the gashes that covered his chest. with all of your attention diverted to the wounds, you failed to notice exactly how close you were to zoro until his other hand gently fell to you hip.

looking up at the swordsman with wide eyes and the cutest blush he'd ever seen, shock clearly written all over your face searching his for some sort of explanation. his husky voice cut through the silence of drowning in his eyes "my god, you're so fucking beautiful."

heat rushed to your cheeks and ears, tearing yourself away from the zoro's face, attempt to finish tending to his wound, your soft voice was barely above a whisper and if it weren't for the closeness, zoro wouldn't have been able to hear you say "i think that's the blood loss talking..."

•♡•

thankfully, he allowed you to finish the rest of your work in relative peace. his hands still very much on you, they now both sat on your hips, as you needed both hands to wrap him in fresh bandages. you did your best to avoid making eye contact, but that didn't stop zoro's gaze on you, which you could feel it hot and almost burning into your skin. it took everything you had to speak above a whisper to say "okay.. you're all patched up now.."

you attempted to step backwards, out from between his thighs, but his hands remained, gentle but firmly, on your hips. finally willing yourself to make eye contact with the man in front of you. zoro removed one of his hands from your hip, instead bringing it under your chin to keep your eyes on his. you saw the smallest hint of a smirk grow across the swordsman's lips as he said "thanks, gorgeous. i'm feeling a bit better already."

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tags ♡: @3v37773 @dindjarins1ut @thepotatocatto @irethepotato @dreamcastgirl99 @acesdiary; want to join the taglist? click here!

a/n: i am still very much sick with the flu; but slowly and surely getting better 😭😭😭 i was going to drag this out a bit longer but my head was really starting to hurt so that's my sign to be done and take some ibuprofen 😭😭😭😭😭

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!

[moonmaiden1996]

Bound by Fate

Shank's inhales some Devil Fruit Pollen unleashing some primal urges deep within him and revealing a potent and alluring scent pulling you directly into his path.

Chapter Two

Shanks had always believed he was in control—of his crew, his ship, his destiny. A man as powerful as he was couldn’t afford to lose himself, not to anything, especially not to something as ridiculous as Devil Fruit blossom. Yet, there he was, his mind consumed by the effects of a pollen he hadn’t even noticed until it was too late.

It started with a strange, floral scent, subtle but maddening, swirling in the air of the marketplace. The merchant’s stand had been covered in bright red flowers, their pollen drifting through the wind. The fool of a merchant. Greedy and stupid. The plants that grew Devil Fruits were rare, especially since when an eater dies, their fruit reappears somewhere in the world. It didn’t mean that the flowers didn't appear, and when they did, stupid merchants would not hesitate to cut them down and sell them to the highest bidder. The flower and leaves could be dried and mashed up to make all sorts of powders, tinctures, and oils for a skilled physician, at least, but for an idiot with a pestle and mortar it was dangerous. Even for a Yonko like himself

When that pollen hit his face, he knew the trouble it would cause he was at least thankful the small gust didn't hit anyone else.

The change was slow at first. A warmth spread through his chest, making his pulse race, though he chalked it up to the tropical heat. But then came the scent—your scent. Faint at first, like a whisper on the breeze, but with each passing day, it grew stronger, more intoxicating. It was unlike anything he had ever felt. It called to him, pulling him in a direction he didn’t fully understand.

Days passed, and the more he fought it, the stronger the urge became. Beckman and Hongo are watching over him constantly.  Every breath he took was painful. Every breath seemed to be filled with you, and a painful reminder that you were not there somewhere beyond his reach, waiting to be found. And Shanks, despite his easygoing nature, couldn’t ignore it any longer. The need was burning when he gave Snake his new destination and Beckman his orders.

xxx

The festival on the island of Tansora was in full swing when the Red Force docked. Music filled the air, laughter echoing through the streets. Shanks, with his usual grin and swagger, led his crew into town, but beneath his confident exterior, that strange hunger gnawed at him.

Despite the dizzying array of smell and sound and copious amounts of ale and rum being passed around it was not hard to find you, winding himself through the winding passages and hoards of writhing bodies. Your scent was not easily overpowered.

You were on stage, dancing with a grace that made the crowd sway in rhythm. But it wasn’t just your movements that captivated him—it was the power you radiated. You didn’t know it, but your very presence was laced with Haki. It was subtle, woven into every turn and every motion of your dance, commanding attention and respect without you needing to speak a word.

Shanks’ heart raced, the scent of you overwhelming his senses, and for a moment, he felt as if the world had narrowed to just you and him. He watched, entranced, the pull growing stronger, primal.

"Captain," Benn Beckman’s voice cut through the haze. "You good? you haven't had a drop of rum since we left the ship."

Shanks tore his eyes away from you, blinking as if waking from a dream. "Yeah," he said, though his voice was rougher than usual. "I’m fine. Pass me a tankard, let's celebrate, we just have one small thing to do." Shanks roared, followed by his crew, clattering of cups sloshing the amber coloured liquid. But not once did his eyes leave your performance.

He wasn’t fine. Not at all.

xxx

When your music finished, you slipped off the stage and away from the crowd, seeking a moment of quiet in the alley behind the festival grounds. The air was hot, stifling, a thin sheen of sweat glimmered in the night. Your heart was still pounding from the dance, the energy of the evening lingering in your body like an aftershock. But there was something else, too—an uneasy feeling that you couldn’t shake, like you were being watched. The cold air felt good on your calling skin as you settled against the rough slates of the building that surrounded the square. Closing your eyes, you took a few steady pants of breath to steady your racing heart. The sound of shuffling stirred you from your moment's respite. 

That’s when you saw him.

A man stood in the shadows, leaning casually against the wall, an arm crossed over his chest. He was tall, with messy red hair that framed his face in a wild, untamed way. His grin was cocky, but there was something in his eyes that set you on edge—something dark and intense. a black cloak blocked most of his form, but you didn't need to see it. He was tall and strong built. No man could be up to any good, lurking on the fringes of the festival. Not when whatever pleasure they wanted could be filled in the main square. 

"Didn’t mean to scare you," he said, his voice smooth, almost teasing. "You’re quite the dancer. I didn't expect that, aren't I a lucky man." he smiled. 

You narrowed your eyes, taking a step back. "Who are you?"

He straightened up, walking toward you with a swagger. "Shanks," he said simply, as if that was all the explanation you needed.

When you didn’t respond, he let out a soft chuckle. "You really don’t know, do you? I thought it would work on you too, hm."

"Know what?" You snapped, your body tensing as the unease grew. There was something about him, something in the way he looked at you, like he knew more than he was letting on.

Shanks’ grin faded slightly, replaced by something more serious. "There’s a connection between us," he said, his voice low. "I don’t know how or why, but I can feel it. And I know you can too."

Your heart skipped a beat. His words sent a chill down your spine. The closer he got the more impressive his form seemed, thick muscles strained against his skin, bronzed by hours outside in the hot sun, a body that had left the tale-tell signs of a fighter, the three jagged scars that drew down across his right eye and a missing left arm. Not that would hinder him, he did seem like he would need another arm to do some serious damage.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," you said, keeping your voice steady. "And I don’t care. Whatever you think is happening here, it’s not."

Shanks stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, but there was a softness in his gaze, a sweetness beneath the authority. "I wish it was that simple," he murmured, his voice almost tender. His fingers twitching as his reached his hand out before pulling in back to his check settling in back to his side, but you did miss the clench of his hand and his fingernails pressing in to the callous flesh on his palm ‘’I haven’t been able to think about anything but you. The scent of you, the pull of you... it’s driving me mad."

You stared at him, your pulse racing. "You are drunk or insane," you said, though your voice wavered. ‘’and I don't have time for either"

"I didn’t want this," he admitted, ignoring you words, his expression pained. "But it’s not about what I want anymore. It’s about what we are. You are mine."

You took a step back, shaking your head. "So you're definitely drunk and insane then," your voice wobbled as you skirted back, but every move you made back forward, he moved forward, his eyes forever moving, devouring you. 

Shanks sighed, his usual cocky smile slipping for a moment, replaced by something darker, more conflicted. "I know it’s a lot to take in, but I can’t fight it anymore. I need you with me."

Your stomach twisted. You have been an entertainer long enough to know how to deal with the pervy patrons that crowd round every corner after a performance, and you have lived in Tonsona long enough to know a pirate when you see one. Grabby and rude, pushing their intimation on anything they thought they could get away with, This however was different, this pirate presence seemed to dominate the space, he was by no means a giant but there was something oddly menacing about this one. And you really did not have the energy to deal with this, a overfriendly pirate too drunk and stupid to make a real pass at you.

"I’m not going anywhere with you," you said, your voice firm. ‘’Go back to the festival.’’

Shanks’ eyes flashed with frustration, but he didn’t push. Instead, he took a deep breath as if steadying himself. "I didn’t want it to come to this," he said softly, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "But I don’t have a choice."

Before you could react, there was movement behind you—strong hands grabbing your arms, pulling you back. You struggled, but it was no use. The men holding you were skilled, their grips firm yet careful, as if they didn’t want to hurt you.

"Let me go!" you shouted, panic rising in your chest.

Benn Beckman appeared beside Shanks, his expression calm but unreadable. "We need to take her, Captain," he said quietly. "It’s the only way."

Shanks clenched his jaw, his fists tightening at his sides. "I know," he muttered, his voice thick with self-loathing. "But that doesn’t mean I like it."

‘’Hongo will make sure she isn't harmed.’’ Benn's gruff voice soothing his captain as he marched him toward the dock, back to you as you were pulled along with them.  

You fought against the hands of the crew, but they were unyielding, your heart pounding in your chest, but they were too strong. They lifted you off your feet, carrying you toward the docks where the Red Force awaited. No matter how much you twisted and struggled, they did not budge. Their eyes are determined and hard.

You screamed, your voice filled with fury and desperation. "You don’t have to do this!"

Shanks winced, his face tight with guilt. "I’m sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. With his back to you, you could barely hear him. "But I need you with me. I can’t let you go."

Despite the firm set of his jaw and the confidence in his stance, there was pain in his eyes, a battle raging within him. He hated himself for this, for taking you against your will, but the primal need inside him—the need for his—overpowered his conscience. He couldn’t walk away, not now.

"Let me go!" you shouted, panic rising in your chest.

Your eyes darted between Shanks and Beckman, the reality of the situation crashing down on you like a wave. You were trapped.

"Why are you doing this?" you demanded, fear creeping into your voice, tears welling up in your eyes as you tugged hopelessly at the hands that caged you.

Shank's didn’t turn to you, only glanced at you over his shoulder, the pleading of his tone making you freeze in the hands of your captives. "Because I need you. We need each other. You’ll understand soon enough, but you have to trust me."

You swallowed hard, every instinct screaming at you to run, to escape. But the way he looked at you, with a mix of desperation and longing, kept you rooted in place.

"I won’t be your captive," you shot back defiantly but quietly.

"You’re not a captive," Shanks replied, his voice softening. "You’ll be mine."

Even as you fought against the ropes that bound you, you could not quell a deepening feeling in the pit of your stomach to submit, to give in. A feeling that you pushed down with every fiber of your body even though every cell in your body screamed for you to not fight.

xxxxx

Once aboard the Red Force, they brought you to a cabin, locking the door behind you. You paced the small room, your mind racing, trying to make sense of what had just happened. but you didn't miss the soft creak of the ship, and it swayed into motion. You were sailing. On a ship. Abducted by a crew and what you can only assume was their deranged captain. Your best hope was they were going to sell you, the worse… you shivered, it doesn't bear thinking about it.  

After what seemed an eternity, the door creaked open, and Shanks stepped inside. His cocky grin was gone, replaced by a sombre expression in this light. You could see him clearly now. The red locks framed his face, and chocolate eyes stared out at you from a canvas of gold skin. His feature was well weathered but handsome as he leaned against the doorframe, his arm crossed.

"I didn’t want it to go like this," he said quietly, his voice soft. "I didn’t want to force you."

You glared at him, your anger flaring. "Then why did you? Why kidnap me?"

Shanks ran a hand through his hair, and down his face, his stubble made him look tired, frustration etched into his features. "Because if I didn’t, I’d lose myself." His eyes met yours, raw and unguarded. "That damn pollen, it’s turned me into something I never wanted to be.’’ he muttered more to himself than to you. ‘’But now, I need you more than anything. And I hate myself for it but for now you need to stay."

The honesty in his voice caught you off guard. You could see the conflict in him—the cocky, confident pirate who always had control now fighting against something far deeper, something primal and unavoidable.

"I don’t expect you to forgive me," Shanks continued, his voice quiet. "But I promise you this—I’ll keep you safe. Always."

You didn’t know what to say. Part of you wanted to scream at him, to fight back, to demand your freedom. But another part of you—it wasn't sure. 

‘’What do you want from me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your anger giving way to confusion.

"To make you mine," Shanks said simply, his gaze unwavering. "I can’t fight it, and neither should you. Whatever this is between us,  it is not something I have the power to ignore."

Your breath caught in your throat. The intensity of his gaze burned into you, but you couldn’t let yourself be swayed by his words. You took a step back, desperately trying to regain some semblance of control.

"Let me go!" you shouted again, this time more forcefully.

"Can’t do that," he replied, though his tone was almost apologetic. "Not until we figure this out. Until I know you’re safe. I’m not just a pirate; I’m a Yonko. I won’t let anyone hurt you."

 "What’s wrong with you? I don’t need you to protect me! I don’t need anything from you!"

"You’re wrong," Shanks said, his voice steady, but the weight of his words hung heavy in the air. "You need me. You will see in time."

Your eyes narrowed, but you couldn’t deny the flicker of uncertainty in your gut. Shanks straightened, his confident demeanour slowly returning as he gave you a small, apologetic smile. "For what it’s worth," he said softly, "I’ll make this right. One way or another. You never know you might like life as a pirate. You strike me as the cutthroat type. Now get some rest."

And with that, he turned and left, leaving you alone in the cabin as the Red Force sailed away into the night, carrying you toward an uncertain future.

I have wanted to write One Piece Fanfic for ages, and this has been stuck in my mind for the longest time. Might write a second part and more pollen fiction for the other members of the Straw Hats. Please like, leave a comment or make a review.

[ltwilliammowett]

Today, in the 11th door, a secret is hiding and perhaps it will be revealed at some point. HMS Erebus in the eternal ice will maybe the key….

Just a tiny bit of her history:

Our Erebus was a warship and research vessel of the Royal Navy in the 19th century. The Erebus belonged to the Hecla class of bomb vessels. These were ships designed to bombard the coast with heavy mortars. It was named after Erebos (Latinised Erebus), the god of darkness in Greek mythology.

The ship became famous for its participation in James Clark Ross's expedition to the Antarctic and John Franklin's last expedition to the Canadian Arctic. It was previously thought that the ship was abandoned by its crew in 1848. The presumed sinking site of the ship and the other ship of the expedition, the Terror, off King William Island was declared a National Historic Site of Canada in 1992. The wreck of the ship was found in September 2014 more than 100 kilometres south in Wilmot and Crampton Bay off the Adelaide Peninsula

[theworldatwar]

A German mortar team gets ready to fire - date and location unknown. This is possibly a training exercise

[fanaticsnail]

Hi! This is anon with the doctor oc.

I have not a request but just a thought. Imagine Doc revealing to the crew that flowers can be edible (I think it can be new info for most of them) just for it to backfire immediately because someone is trying to eat a poisonous flower the next minute

What Did You Eat, Bubblegum?

Hey Doc Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,600+

Synopsis: Sharing your passion has ended in un very foreseen circumstances, but leaving you a little upset regardless.

Themes: Platonic!Bubblegum x gn!reader, Platonic!Killer x gn!reader, softness, little bit of flirting, allergic reaction, poisoning, venting, swearing, medical practice, patient x doctor, terms of endearment, reader is referred to as "Doc" - the doctor of the Kid Pirates

Notes: As someone who has a basic guide for foraging on edible weeds and native plants in my home country, this is very dear to my heart. I use flowers in most of my cooking, especially as garnishes. Onion Weed (three corner leek) is my favorite edible flower. Screengrab from this clip.

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sinning-23 @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @nerium-lil

“Oh, come on,” you whisper beneath your breath, hastily rolling back the sanitary lining sheet for your treatment cot to house its next victim. 

“Hey Doc," the voice of the hulking first mate called over from the threshold of your office door, "Got another one for you.” Bubblegum was heaped over his shoulders, his face three-times what it ought to have been. 

Bubblegum was hastily placed down in a heaping thud, his head immediately flopping backwards and his mouth hastily gasping and gulping for air. His skin was blotchy and donning the same vibrant hue of purple as his lengthy hair. 

“What did you eat, Bubblegum?” you gently coax your sensitive crewmate, noticing the rise in welts and pus-filled boils forming beneath the surface of his skin. Bubblegum attempted to smile at you, his teeth drawing back to reveal a sheepish grimace. 

“Wih wahs’ah fauwah,” he muffled past his abnormally puffy lips. Your puzzlement was depicted on your brow as you looked to Killer. He sighed, rotating his head on his shoulders and donning the 'hat' of 'muffle-translator.' 

“It was a flower,” he nodded to you, gently walking to perch his hips against the back of your office chair. 

“And where did you find it, sweety?” you asked Bubblegum as you donned your hands with latex gloves. 

“Doun bai n’dah wayah n’ groien’ i’da reyds,” you nodded along to Bubblegum's muffled words before looking over to Killer. 

“Down by the water and growing in the reeds,” Killer bobbed his mask along with each nonchalant explanation. You nodded, looking over to Bubblegum and readying an aloe-based balm for his itching skin. 

“And what color was it?” you bit back your growing smile as you added, “Be as descriptive as you can, sweetheart. It helps with every detail to know how to treat you.” Killer rumbled a soft growl below his breath as Bubblegum began to explain himself. 

“N’ah sem ehz woit n’dah pels ‘er ewow,” you sucked your entire bottom lip into your mouth as you turned away from both men, overcome with the ridiculousness of the encounter, and stifling a laugh with knowing Killer would have to translate for you. “N'ah miwow ehz weyd n’deyre wahz bwaek speirz grewin’ aouda n’dah senn’r. D’ehr wayah wah’z pewlin’ inah cwoiyew ahda boyum.” 

Without missing a beat, you straightened your back and bore your eyes directly into Killer's mask and waited for his translation. He huffed back a guttural growl, inhaling deeply as he translated for you. 

“The stem was white and the petals were yellow, the middle was red and there were black spikes growing out of the center,” he uttered concisely, “The water was pooling in a coil at the bottom.” You nodded, gently mincing up a remedy with your mortar and pestle and bringing up a drawstring bag. 

“Mm-hmm,” you nodded along, placing down your mortar and pestle and removing a portion of the creamy aloe concoction and pasting it on his features, “And what did you learn?” Bubblegum’s face blushed a soft hue of pink as he widened his eyes to depict his innocence. 

“Notta gow fowahjin’ ithow m’hawaht doktnar,” he uttered sorrowfully. You smiled down at him as Killer translated for you. 

“Not to go foraging without the ship's doctor,” Killer uttered nonchalantly with a soft shrug. 

“My hot doctor, you mean,” you nod back at him over your shoulder, finishing off with Bubblegum and giving his shoulder a soft squeeze. “Use this balm until the itching, swelling and bruising goes down. Okay, sweet pea?” 

Bubblegum nodded along and gave you as much of a close-lipped smile as he could muster. The purple-haired crewman exited your office and closed the door behind him, prompting you to exhale while removing your latex gloves with a curt ‘snap.’

Just as you began to relax, two arms snaked around your waist and tugged you back into the wall of flesh and muscle behind you. You shrieked in response, your whole body growing tense with fright. 

“You little shit,” a husky pur called down into your ear, forcing lighting to surge from your coccyx up to your cranium in a fizzling crackle, “You could understand Bubblegum the whole time, couldn't you?” A small squeak was pulled from your throat. 

His arms felt like everything all at once, overwhelming your senses. Secure and welcoming, taunting and warning, strong and intimidating: all of the things you knew Massacre Soldier Killer to be. You lulled your head back on his chest, looking up at his mask adorned face and giving him a coy, pouty smile. 

“I didn't want anything to get lost in translation,” you shrugged in his arms, clicking your tongue up at him with a mocking taunt painted on your lips, “Didn't want to miss an opportunity for you to use that pretty voice I love so much, big guy. It's always a joy to fuck with you a little bit.” 

“Oh, you're a little bratty today,” he purred down at you, the hue of his icy blue orbs gazing dangerously down at you through the several holes in the mask, “What's got you in such a shit mood, hm? Wanna tell Daddy about it?” You refused to pay his comment any mind, instead shrugging out of his arms and tidying up your work bench. 

“You know, if you keep using that one slip up against me, it's gonna lose its charm,” you scoffed at him, ridding the cot of the sanitary lining and throwing it into the trash compartment beside the bench. You spray down the leather lining to sanitize it, wiping it down and casting away the disposable material in the same trash compartment. 

Killer continued to watch you, eying you off and reading your body language with ease. 

“So you don't want to talk about it?” he offered you, spinning your desk chair around to watch it rotate with a soft squeak at the metal base, “Gonna do that thing you do and pretend you're fine until you explode?” You huff out a puff of exasperated air and turn back around to him. 

“Look, I'm just a little pissed that my idea of fun turned around and detonated in my face, is all,” you pout at him, folding your arms and glaring at the trash compartment at the side of your bed. “When I borrowed that book on edible plants for remedial purposes from the Blackleg chef, I should've known it'd turn to shit. Sometimes I forget the crew I serve with, I should've known better.”

“You shouldn't feel apologetic for your enthusiasm,” his tone was solid and baring a hint of warning, “We love your enthusiasm. I-... I love your enthusiasm.” His stutter caught you off guard, prompting you to arch your brow at him. 

“I'm fully aware of how much you all enjoy my enthusiasm,” you arch your neck and look down your nose at him, your pout still evident on your features, “I just wish you'd all check in with me before eating random shit you find on the side of the bay.” 

Killer’s soft, high-pitched giggle prompted you to drop your pout and offer him a soft, half-smile. His laugh continued as you joined yours alongside his, softly reaching forward and placing your hand on his scarred, left forearm. 

“Alright, alright,” you squeeze his arm and teeter off your joint laughter, “Let's get back to work, yeah? I've gotta do some paperwork correspondence with Trafalgar.”

“Trafalgar?” you could hear the audible arch in his brow, his disdain depicted in his tone, “Why?” 

“He was asking about something, is all. Something to do with my dissertation paper back when I graduated,” you shrug, gently releasing his arm and turning back to your desk. “I don't get to geek out about my thesis often, and getting his questions via Den-Den made me feel passionate about my studies again.” 

Killer nodded along with you, slowly returning your desk chair back towards your desk and gently coaxing you to sit down in it. 

“Dinner’s in about about thirty to forty, if you're coming,” he uttered beneath his breath. As he turned away, he felt your hand clutch his wrist and hold him in place. He gently glanced down to look at you, your face not leaving your desk as you withheld your growing fluster. 

“Thanks, Kil,” you continued to hold your eyes fixed on the desk in front of you, “For listening to me, I mean. It means-... It means a lot to me.”

He leaned down, his mask brushing it's brow gently against your temple. 

“I'm happy to be on ‘Doc Diffusal Duty’ any time,” he whispered softly before pulling away, “You wanna talk, know I'm here, alright?” 

“You're the best, big guy,” you give his wrist two rapid squeezes before letting go of it, returning back to your writing. Killer halted at your door, glancing back at you and watching as you returned to scratching and marking your journal and shifting through the papers. 

“It's paella, by the way,” he called back over to you, “Just in case you were wondering.”

“I'll have an epinephrine on standby for Wire,” you called over your shoulder, “We both know there's no holding him back from your cooking.”

“Oh, Doc,” he clutched his heart in feigned dramatical emphasis, “You flatter me, but there's really no need.” You paused, cocking your head to the side and your brows knit in puzzlement. Killer giggled softly before his regular baritone cadence returned. 

“I used chorizo as a substitute for shellfish, just to give you a bit of a break.” 

Before you had the opportunity to turn the entire way around, you noticed Killer was already away from darkening the threshold of the doorway. Your bottom lip quivered at the thought that he changed the menu just to suit both Wire’s anaphylaxis, and to give you a break from playing disciplinary warden and watchdog. 

You were definitely going to volunteer for washing up duty as payment for his thoughtfulness.

[captain-price-unofficially]

A mortar crew of the 3rd Battalion, 157th Infantry Regiment, 45th Infantry Division, prepares to fire 81mm shells while sheltered behind the Maginot Line pill-box near Lembach. December 13, 1944.

[frogblast-the-ventcore]

It's very true.

[workersolidarity]

[ 📹 A Palestinian family returns to their shattered home in the northern Gaza Strip despite the widespread destruction and continued bombardment by the Israeli occupation army on all axis of the enclave.]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚀🏘️💥🚑 🚨

DAY 212 OF "ISRAEL'S" GENOCIDE: NETANYAHU REFUSES TO NEGOTIATE END TO WAR AS MASS SLAUGHTER OF CIVILIANS CONTINUES UNABATED

On the 212th day of "Israel's" ongoing special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) committed a total of three new massacres of Palestinian families, resulting in the deaths of no less than 29 Palestinian civilians, mostly women and children, while another 110 others were wounded over the previous 24-hours.

It should be noted that as a result of the constant Israeli bombardment of Gaza's healthcare system, infrastructure, residential and commercial buildings, local paramedic and civil defense crews are unable to reach countless hundreds, even thousands of victims who remain trapped under the rubble, or who's bodies remain strewn across the streets of Gaza.

This leaves the official death toll vastly undercounted, as Gaza's healthcare officials are unable to accurately tally those killed and maimed in this genocide, which must be kept in mind when considering the scale of the mass murder.

In today's news, Israeli occupation Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, refuses to negotiate an end to the war, despite the Palestinian Resistance's flexibility in negotiations.

The occupation leader said on Sunday that he will not agree to an end to the war and the withdrawal of all occupation forces from the Gaza Strip, a top demand of the Hamas Resistance movement, with the occupation's Prime Minister describing a withdrawal as "surrender".

"Hamas is fortified in its extreme positions," Netanyahu said to the Hebrew media, thereby "obstructing the release of our hostages."

Netanyahu claimed that the release of the hostages being held by Hamas in Gaza is "at the forefront of our minds," however, the Israeli occupation is unwilling to pay the price for a deal with Hamas to "leave Hamas intact, end the war and to withdraw the IDF forces from the Strip."

In response to the Israeli occupation's unwillingness to compromise, the Hamas Resistance movement's military arm, the Al-Qassam Brigades launched a rocket mortar attack on the Kherem Shalom settlement, adjacent to the southernmost tip of Gaza, launched from somewhere in Rafah, in the southern Gaza Strip.

The rocket attack wounded at least 7 Israelis, with the Palestinian media describing the wounded as "occupation soldiers" while the Hebrew media described the wounded as "people," making it unclear who exactly was wounded in the strike.

According to the Hebrew media, an air raid alarm sounded after the firing of several rockets from Rafah at around 1:30pm local time, after which, paramedic crews arrived on the scene, treating 7 wounded, 3 in critical condition, who were taken to Soroka Hospital in Beersheba.

The Hebrew media added that the Israeli occupation army responded to the rocket strike with a barrage of tank fire and airstrikes on the Rafah area, and also responded by closing the border crossing to humanitarian aid trucks.

According to the Al-Qassam Brigades, they launched a mortar rocket attack on the Kerem Shalom settlement using a number of 114mm short-range "Rajoum" missiles, wounding 7 Israeli occupation soldiers.

At the same time as the strike occured in the south, around 20 rockets were fired from southern Lebanon into settlements in the north of the occupied Palestinian territories, wounding an older man in Kiryat Shmona with shrapnel.

In other news, despite the ongoing massacres in the Gaza Strip, Palestinian Orthodox Christians in Gaza celebrated Easter today despite the subdued atmosphere, as is described in the local Palestinian media.

At the Orthodox Church of Saint Porphyrius in Gaza City, at least 100 Palestinian Christian families gathered for prayers and religious rituals without festivities, according to Imad al-Sayegh, Chairman of the Board of Directors of the Gaza Churches Union.

Al-Sayegh, alongside dozens of other families, sought shelter in the Church, telling the media that "sadness pervades the atmosphere inside the church, as it does outside, leaving no room for joy and celebration amidst the immense destruction, continuous shelling and casualties."

Traditionally, the Holy Fire is transported from the Holy Sepulchre in occupied Al-Quds (Jersusalem) to churches across the region and around the world amid festive celebrations.

However, this year the Israeli occupation did not permit the entry of the Holy Fire to Gaza's Christian Orthodox Churches, instead choosing to pretend to American media that Christian churches do not exist in Gaza because, they claim, "Hamas" doesn't permit it, which is patently and provably untrue.

Meanwhile, mass slaughter of Palestinian civilians continued unabated in the Gaza Strip, where the Israeli occupation army hammered several residential areas in various sectors of the Gaza Strip, using a combination of American-made dumb bombs, artillery shelling and missile strikes to target residential homes and apartment buildings.

The slaughter started on Saturday with a number of bombings targeting the southern Gazan city of Rafah.

According to local sources, the occupation military conducted an airstrike on a residential home in the village of al-Shoka, southeast of the city of Rafah, killing three Palestinians civilians, including two children, while several others were wounded in the strike.

Another occupation airstrike targeted a gathering of civilians in the Abasan Al-Kabira neighborhood, south of Khan Yunis, in the southern Gaza Strip, wounding several people who were transported to the European Gaza Hospital for treatment.

The occupation's atrocities continued elsewhere, with the Israeli occupation's artillery shelling targeting the Wadi Al-Arayes quarter, east of the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, southeast of Gaza City, resulting in the deaths a mother and her two children, and also wounding the family's father.

At the same time, Zionist occupation warplanes bombed a residential building in the Al-Mufti area, north of the Al-Nuseirat Refugee Camp, in the central Gaza Strip, obliterating the building and wounding a number of civilians.

The slaughter of innocent civilians continued into Sunday morning, as Orthodox Christians gathered for prayers and rituals at Gaza's few remaining churches, many of which were bombed early in the war.

IOF warplanes bombed two residential homes in Rafah, in southern Gaza, including a home belonging to the Bahloul family, in the Al-Salam neighborhood, east of Rafah, killing and wounding several people.

A previous airstrike in the same neighborhood targeted the Al-Sha'er family home, destroying the house and killing three Palestinian civilians.

Occupation fighter jets then targeted the town of Al-Zawaida, in the central Gaza Strip, followed by hammering agricultural lands with bombings in the neighboring Al-Maghazi Refugee Camp.

At the same time, Zionist forces conducted airstrikes targeting a site in the Al-Geneina neighborhood, east of Rafah City, in the south of Gaza, while occupation aircraft also fired missiles towards the eastern neighborhoods of the Al-Bureij and Maghazi Refugee Camps, along with the city of Deir al-Balah in the central Gaza Strip.

The bombardment went on with yet another series of airstrikes targeting the Al-Zaytoun, Tal al-Hawa, and Sheikh Ajlin neighborhoods of Gaza City, resulting in the death of a civilian and also wounding several others.

Israeli occupation warships also fired heavy machine gun fire towards the fisherman's port and the Al-Shati Refugee Camp, west of Gaza City, and also targeted beaches west of Rafah City.

Yet another attack by occupation fighter jets targeted a gathering of civilians in the Nuseirat Camp, in the central Gaza Strip, killing at least one Palestinian.

Simultaneously, Israeli occupation forces demolished Palestinian homes in the Al-Mughraqa, Al-Zahra'a, and Wadi Gaza Bridge areas of central Gaza.

The Israeli occupation also announced the assassination of Ayman Zorob, a commander with the Al-Quds Brigades, belonging to Palestinian Islamic Jihad (PIJ).

Occupation warplanes also bombed a residential home belonging to photographer Hassan Aslih, south of Khan Yunis, in the southern Gaza Strip.

Yet another bombing of Khan Yunis targeted the Al-Farouq Mosque in the Khan Yunis Camp, and another targeted the Nouh Mosque east of Khan Yunis, resulting in several casualties.

As a result of "Israel's" ongoing special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the death toll among the local population has risen to exceed 34'683 Palestinians killed, including over 14'500 children and 9'500 women, while another 78'018 others have been wounded since the start of the current round of Zionist aggression, beginning with the events of October 7th, 2023.

May 5th, 2024

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@WorkerSolidarityNews

[kvetchlandia]

Irving Penn American Mortar Crew, Italy 1944